


To Boldly Go

by brinkleytown



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, Pegging, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-08-27
Updated: 2013-08-27
Packaged: 2017-12-24 20:34:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,008
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/944368
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brinkleytown/pseuds/brinkleytown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Plot-less Stora smut.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Boldly Go

**Author's Note:**

> Requested in [saucefactory](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com)'s asks by [mmmfelicious](http://mmmfelicious.tumblr.com/) and [published](http://saucefactory.tumblr.com/post/59456366130/oh-ye-of-all-ships-and-many-kinks-can-you-help-a-girl) as a call for help.
> 
> (follow me too: [whiskeysourwolves](http://whiskeysourwolves.tumblr.com) (TW blog) & [brinkleytown](http://brinkleytown.tumblr.com) (personal/misc blog))

Cora appeared positively feral as she looked hungrily down at the pale, naked boy spread out the bed before her. Her dark eyes were rimmed with red and her usually closely clipped nails had grown long. The teasing drag of her teeth up his inner thigh had Stiles teetering on the edge of pleasure and pain in a way that further betrayed her lack of full humanity. His head tilted back in pleasure as she played the most brutal, teasing game of connect-the-dots, tonguing the distance between the moles and freckles which pocked his legs. 

It was this precarious balance--between her teasing ministrations and the wolf’s power, held just under the surface with tight, but not infallible control--which caused him to fall apart with her touch. “Fuck,” he spat in frustration. “Cora…” The name was pronounced as a warning and followed by a gasp and a low keening noise as she roughly thrust her fingers deeper into him, prodding the sensitive gland inside. 

“What was that, human?” she asked, attempting a sly leer reminiscent of her Uncle Peter. Instead, however, Cora grinned, too delighted with the opportunity for the consensual power play to fully immerse herself in the role. When Stiles audibly groaned, in a manner more exasperated than lusty, she steeled her expression and returned to the task at hand.

“Speak up,” Cora ordered, foregoing any potentially humorous addresses this time. “Is there something you want?” 

Stiles squeaked in response as she pulled all three fingers out of his stretched hole and plunged them forth once more only moments later. “God, Cora,” he breathed, his cock flushed and hard, bent slightly to the right as it lay on his stomach. “Want…want you to...” he struggled, trying to bring some of his attention away from her sinful fingers and--shit!--her tongue as well.

In response, she backed away completely, removing her digits and mouth from Stiles’ body, leaving him feeling empty and still extremely turned on. He knew it--for every masochistic quality possessed by her older brother Derek, Cora Hale had a streak of sadism. As Stiles’ eyes began to water with the sheer intensity of his need, she simply rocked back onto her haunches and began to stroke the thick cock strapped securely to her pelvis. 

If Stiles had thought that her hands had created a hellish situation before, watching her jerk off the pale pink silicone toy was like sitting right under the heel of Satan’s boot. A needy whine escaped from his throat without warning and Cora moved closer to the helpless, sex-starved figure. “Don’t move,” she said, unnecessarily. From experience it was clear that once aroused, Stiles would submit to her will with very little prompting. Neither command nor restraint was necessary to keep him from reaching out for her body or his own release before the time was right.

She lined the phallus up properly, slicking it with the excess lube that dripped from his anus, and pushed to the hilt in one smooth stroke. Stiles made a pained noise at the sudden intrusion, but his tensed muscles relaxed almost immediately as the stretch began to burn in a much more pleasurable manner. Cora pulled back, leaving just the head inside him and began to rock her hips, thrusting in an experimental combination of depth and intensity. 

Stiles parted his lips as if to speak, but was quickly silenced by an open palm. “I swear to god, Stiles. If you say anything about going where no one has gone before, I will stop right now and get my Hitachi while you sit there and cry,” she threatened. 

He laughed. “I--was--gonna’--” he panted, meeting each motion of Cora’s strap-on with one of his own. “It’s ‘no man’,” he corrected, instead of continuing. 

She slowed her motions to a near stop. “Huh?” Apparently, her previously virginal boyfriend was lamenting her anatomy. “Would you rather it was Derek inside of you?” Cora asked, only half-teasing. She saw the way he looked at her older brother when he thought no one was watching. 

Stiles’ cock gave a noticeable twitch at the suggestion and he glared down at it in reprimand. “No--I mean not that--no I wouldn’t rather. God, Cora, don’t stop. I want you.” 

Cora ignored his pleas, furrowing her brow and toeing the line of the change. “Fuck you,” Stiles spat. “Scratch that--fuck me. That’s the name of the episode. It’s ‘Where No Man Has Gone Before,” not “no one.” Capable women on the bridge of the Enterprise, for sure, but it was 1965 and Roddenbury still didn’t have the whole gender neutrality thing down to a science.”

This was exactly what she had been hoping to avoid--a soliloquy on science fiction television or fantasy roleplaying games when she wanted his mind to be solely focused on what she could do to his body. “You’re a dweeb,” she sighed, affectionately flicking the tip of his nose with her index finger. Cora returned to her previous motion in earnest, changing her angle just enough so that each movement battered Stiles’ prostate. “Shut up,” she said, leaning down to nip sharply at his bottom lip and plunder his mouth with her tongue.

“Is that an order, captain?” Stiles managed to ask between the low, wrecked noises being produced by his vocal cords without his consent.

Cora responded by roughly grabbing his cock, rendering him wordless with each tug. With one final fully-seated press of her hips, he was bearing his neck to her in almost canine submission, coming in ribbons all over his own chest. She leaned down to lick a errant drop off of the rim of his navel, simultaneously reaching to undo her harness. 

Revealing the natural curls dusting her pubic bone, Cora scooted upward, straddling Stiles just above his shoulders. “Show me why I let you on this ship, ensign,” she said with a predatory smile and an eye roll. Stiles grasped her hips with his hands, pulling her close enough to eagerly comply.


End file.
